


Abroad with Amatus

by Flightyfelon



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Sight-seeing, and, mainly
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-08
Updated: 2014-12-09
Packaged: 2018-02-28 17:05:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2740280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flightyfelon/pseuds/Flightyfelon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Takes place shortly after Adamant and the events of 'Into the Abyss'. </p>
<p>Basically, this is the demon spawn of me trying to imagine what it would be like if my Adaar and his Amatus were to visit Tevinter, and the whole mess of emotions that would crop up. Expect fluff ahead, maybe some sparkles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Road to Minrathous

    Dorian was practically vibrating with excitement in his saddle, that much was obvious to anyone who had learned to see past his cool veneer as Silfas Adaar had. The Qunari Inquisitor wiped his sleeve across his sweating forehead, understanding now why Dorian was always complaining of the chill in Skyhold.

  
    By the Maker, Tevinter was _hot_.

    Their small contingent had passed through Vol Dorma two days ago and were now making their way north to Minrathous. 

    Silfas' azure dracolisk drew a lot of attention on the road, especially considering that its passenger was a seven-foot Qunari (depending on whether you counted the broken horns). However, Dorian had assured him that Tevinters appreciated a bit of panache. Besides, considering the Inquisition symbol they had emblazoned on practically _everything_ , people would quickly realize exactly who he was whether or not he proclaimed it. 

    "You don't have to pretend like you're not happy to be back." Adaar said, reining up beside Dorian's white Tevinter charger. The dark-complected mage gave him a positively affronted look, but it was belied by the twinkle of amusement in his eyes.

    "Whatever gives you that impression, Amatus?"

    "Hm. Maybe it's the way you've outpaced the rest of the men." Silfas smiled, casting a glance back at their troupe which was struggling to keep up. Cassandra and Varric were leading the column in the Inquisitor's absence. They appeared to be arguing.

    "Oh." Dorian blushed slightly, his eyebrows drawing together in that adorable way of his.

    Silfas arched a thick eyebrow.

    "Ah, fine. I'm excited... and nervous, alright? Why don't we just sing it to the Heavens, then?" Dorian's charger whickered as his grip tightened on the reins, forcing him to spend a moment calming the beast.

    "Look, Dorian. You don't have to be anxious. No one would dare speak against you while you're here with the Inquisition, with me." Silfas raised his chin defiantly, and Dorian gave him a sad little smile.

    "It's not what they say that I'm worried about. It's what they _think_. Not everyone's as puffed-up and sure of themselves as you are." Dorian tried to conceal his feelings with insults, as ever. Silfas knew this ploy well and countered with humour.

    "I thought you liked how 'large' I am." Silfas grinned, quoting Dorian's own words back at him. Secretly, Silfas was surprised that he came off as confident, when he often felt anything but.

    "That's certainly true, but you know what I mean." It spoke volumes that even this playful chiding wasn't able to brighten his lover's spirits. To be fair, this entire expedition had been Dorian's idea. They could have simply sent Josephine to handle the political situation that had arisen in the Magisterium, but the Tevinter had objected that this required a more personal touch. Silfas had suspected that this was mainly an excuse for Dorian to alleviate his homesickness, but the Inquisitor had decided to indulge him.

    After all, Inquisitor Adaar did love to indulge him.


	2. Flower in the North

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New experiences and an admirer? Perhaps the 'Vints aren't so bad, after all.

"What is it?" Asked the Inquisitor, eyeing the little porcelain cup of soft-frozen confection warily. It smelled like fruit, but he'd be hard-pressed to determine which one. The dessert vendor was wringing his hands nervously.

"It's jelato, and it won't bite." Chided Dorian as he took a small spoonful of his own portion. Silfas thought the man looked pleased as a cat with cream.

Silfas tentatively excavated a sweet-smelling lump of the stuff and set his jaw determinedly. 

"Maker's breath, please tell me I won't have to feed it to you myself." The way Dorian said this made it abundantly obvious that he wouldn't be displeased if it came to that. Silfas cast him a long-suffering glance and put the spoon in his mouth.

"Oh." Said the Inquisitor, around the incredible flavour. Something of his delight must have been evident in his expression because the Jelato Vendor visibly relaxed. Dorian chuckled mirthfully and clapped him on the back.

"Not so bad, is it?" The Tevinter was practically beaming. It was at times like this that Silfas was reminded that Dorian was just a bit over twenty-two, about five years younger than the Inquisitor was himself. Adaar found the joy was infectious as he enjoyed another spoonful.

Even when his dracolisk nearly took a bite out of one of the market stable-hands and Varric had been forced to stand between Cassandra and the offended party, Dorian had simply muttered 'Cheers' and they'd clinked their cups in solidarity.

\-----

Luckily the situation was easily diffused as the Inquisitor and Dorian returned to their troops with cups of jelato for everyone. 'Gratis', the vendor had said, probably more to get them to leave than anything else. Adaar had tried to offer the man some sort of compensation but he wouldn't have it (Or at least that's what Dorian told him he'd said. Silfas couldn't make heads or tails of the rapid Tevene). 

"I guess this country isn't all bad," admitted Varric as he accepted his cup. "It's too bad Tiny couldn't be here. He'd love this stuff."

"You know very well why he couldn't." Said Cassandra, enjoying her jelato despite her honest intentions not to.

"Indeed. Having one Qunari roaming around in people clothes is bad enough. Even my countrymen have their limits." Said Dorian, making Silfas smile a bit self-consciously.

"I know, I know, but just to see the looks on their faces..." Varric's smile was practically devilish. 

As it was, it felt like every Tevinter in the market plaza was staring at them. Some with rather more animosity than others. Silfas quietly wondered which if any of them were actually working in secret opposition to the inquisition. 

He was just wondering how long it would take for their arrival here to reach Venatori ears when he noticed one face in the crowd was conspicuously staring. It was a little girl, dark eyes round as saucers in her tan face. She ducked back behind the empty market stall she was hiding behind as his eyes locked with hers.

"Looks like someone's got a fan." Said Varric as he spotted the girl as well. 

Silfas looked at the dwarf incredulously.

"What? You are a bit of a celebrity, even here, Herald."

The 'Herald' title still stung a little, after learning that he hadn't been chosen by Andraste after all. It still made him a bit embarrassed that he'd let himself believe the Maker had actually deigned to extend his hand to touch him.

"Should I say something to her?" Asked Adaar, watching as the urchin's curious eyes reappeared from behind the stall's canvas tarp. Varric made a little tutting noise and folded his arms pensively.

"She's your fan, do what you like."

"Is that jealousy I hear?" Adaar felt a smile crack his face as he watched the dwarf's look of mock-abashment.

"I suppose not everyone has read my books."

"Despite all evidence to the contrary."

That won a chuckle as the dwarf bent down and plucked a little white flower that had been growing in the shade of a gutter. He handed it to the Inquisitor while motioning to the little girl with a quick tilt of his head. The flower felt so small in Adaar's big, grey hand but that made it seem all the more delicate.

The Inquisitor cast a quick glance over to where Dorian was teasing Cassandra before he got to his feet, trying to be nonchalant (which is difficult when you're a giant in battle-mage armour). The girl squeaked when she noticed him coming towards her with a measured gait and seemed to be torn between bolting and remaining frozen. he knelt slowly, trying to radiate calm.

He gave the urchin what he hoped was a reassuring smile as he knelt before her and offered the flower with his left hand - his marked hand. The girl's eyes darted from his broad face to the proferred flower before she accepted it gingerly. She stopped when she saw the mark and her eyes returned to his face with a look of stark amazement.

"It's called the anchor." He said slowly, knowing she probably wouldn't understand him as he held his hand out palm-up.

"An-chor." She whispered and reached out a small hand as if to touch it. 

She let her fingers drift close to the glowing, green mark but then pulled back with a start. Silfas was now familiar with the tingling-burning sensation you got if you tried to touch the anchor, but he remembered how startling the raw, magical sensation had been at first, even as accustomed as he was to using magic.

She gave him one last look of amazement before finally turning to flee. Silfas watched her retreating back with a wistful expression.

"That was quite the performance." Said Dorian as he returned to their group on the edge of the plaza.

"...Performance?" Asked Silfas, still feeling a bit affected by the whole experience.

"You mean- Oh, Amatus. You never cease to amaze me." Dorian looked like he wanted to kiss him right there in front of everyone in the market plaza, but then seemed to think better of it. That he didn't served to dampen the Inquisitor's spirits a little. Dorian would never have given a second thought to kissing him in public back home.

Regardless, Silfas rested an affectionate hand on the crook of his lover's neck. At least he didn't try to shrug it off, though the blush heating Dorian's cheeks was evidence of his conflicted feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just have to say it amuses me to no end to watch Dorian be torn between his sense of propriety and his rebellious nature (Love this man).
> 
> I'll try to keep updating this semi-regularly. :)

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first DA:I fic, so any critiques are much appreciated. Also, if anyone has any requests of what Dorian and my Adaar should do in Minrathous, I would love to hear it!


End file.
